


Oswin's Grand Ascendency

by Regressive_RS



Category: Runescape (Video Games)
Genre: Biting, F/M, Help are these enough tags, I am so sorry, I wrote this for some reason, I'll do it again, Not reallyy though, Porn, Runescape - Freeform, Sex, Sliske - Freeform, Smut, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26086660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regressive_RS/pseuds/Regressive_RS
Summary: With Bandos' defeat during World Event Two looming, Oswin and Sliske spend a night relaxing and celebrating by playing strip poker. The natural progression of such a game ensues.
Relationships: Player Character/Sliske (Runescape)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Oswin's Grand Ascendency

“You know, World Guardian, if I wanted to play cards by myself I could have just retrieved Ahrim from his crypt,” came Sliske's mischievous voice, as even and conniving as ever. "He's a terrible card cheat, but I don't know what else I'd have expected from a Saradominist magician.". 

Oswin, on the other hand, had barely been listening as she stared out over the distance from the citadel. Standing amongst piles of empty wine bottles with playing cards clutched loosely in one hand, and a half-full bottle of red in the other, her eyes were trained on the horizon. She could just about make out the tips of two of the largest structures she had ever seen, as a small shiver raced down her back.

Perhaps, she considered, the shiver was from her quickly increasing lack of clothes, and not the massive towers she could see spiraling in the distance. She’d already had to discard her pauldrons, boots, gloves and bodice in this damn game, where Sliske had only needed to take off two articles of clothing – his hood and collar, of course. Oswin expected nothing less from him at this point.

_Why exactly had she agreed to play strip poker with him, again?_ She couldn’t remember. Especially now that all she had left was her tunic, pants, a pair of socks… and a surprise for Sliske, too.

The sun barely set behind the horizon, the glow of the anima being dumped into the weapons was now plainly visible to her as she took another swig from the bottle, feeling the cool liquid slide down her throat and further addle her mind.

It was no great secret that Bandos was now losing this war. He was outnumbered, and his armies were outmaneuvered and outmatched. Through Oswin’s ‘gentle’ persuasion as World Guardian, and a few well placed “captured spies” by Sliske, even the Godless had ceased attacking Armadyl’s armies, exclusively focusing on the Big High War God’s. It was simply a matter of time.

Oswin couldn’t help but snort as she finally processed what Sliske had been saying. 

_Ahrim, a card cheat? That was rich, coming from him._

“Are you saying that if I checked your robe sleeves, I wouldn’t find at least two aces in there?” Turning around and arching her eyebrow, she continued “Or that you didn’t sneak into the shadow realm to look at my hand?” she finished, crossing her arms awkwardly as to not spill the wine.

It was always hard to tell when Sliske was smirking, his normal expression was just that smarmy… However, at that very moment, he was _definitely_ smirking.

“I have a great many things up my sleeves. Cards, the Staff of Armadyl, plans to wight you when you die, and more! It’s all so exciting, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked. Rising from his spot on the floor and making a show of shaking out his sleeves, to which various bits of tit and tat fell out. Feathers, a whole colorful array of beads, and what looked to be a miniature doll of Azzanadra filled with needles all came tumbling out of his robes and onto the already messy floor. For a moment, Oswin could’ve sworn she even saw the tip of the staff of Armadyl. She wasn’t even fazed. 

Oswin couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. She’d kill him in his sleep if he wighted her.

“Sure, sure,” she yawned, stretching out her arms in front of her. “In that case, I call. Show ‘em,” she demanded, tossing her hand onto the floor near the pile of discarded cards and clothes.

“Flush… Very impressive, Oswin.” Sliske said, fiddling with the edges of his cards, though his trepidation rapidly turned into a lecherous smirk.

“But not impressive enough.” He followed up with a dramatic flourish, floating his cards over and letting them pass by Oswin’s eyes one at a time.

Queen… Queen… Five…. Five…. Queen. _Full House…_

“Gods damn it,” Oswin muttered, exasperated. “You’re a cheating bastard, you know that?”

Sliske clasped his hands over where his heart would be in fake surprise and hurt. “Oh Oswin, how could you say that? You wound me so!” he mocked, batting his eyelids at her. 

How could she have ever fallen for this dramatic cheat? She didn’t know if it was slight-of-hand, counting cards, or some other bullshit magic, but she just _knew_ he was eschewing the odds in his favor.

Sliske coughed and continued, “Especially when you should be taking off another piece of clothing.”

Oswin took a long swig of wine and growled, quickly chucking the empty bottle among the others and obliging him. Loosening her belt, she slowly tugged down her leggings, exposing her battle-scarred legs… and then perhaps a bit more. Wiggling her pants even further down, past her toned ass; and the briefest flash of purple lingerie was the last thing Sliske saw before Oswin punted the garment directly at his face with a well-aimed kick.

Strutting towards the throne, Oswin shook her head, a mix of anger, determination and drunkenness spreading red across her face.

“Purple, for me?” he asked, Oswin being able to _hear_ the grin on his face.

“Sometimes I wonder who’s really in charge around here,” she huffed, flopping down on the throne and picking up a new bottle of wine. Pulling the cork out with her teeth and spitting it at his feet, she gestured lazily with her free hand. “Your turn to deal, cheater.” 

He continued chiding her, to which she only flipped him off in response.

“Deal the damn cards, Sliske.”

Sliske let out a long, slow whistle as she settled into the throne, having effortlessly plucked her pants from his face and tossing them among the rest of the piles. Controlled mess, they had agreed. Everything in a pile, even if it was scattered and chaotic. What would Armadyl think of his once beloved citadel now, Oswin often wondered.

“Well, quite clearly the person in charge would be _me_ ,” Sliske answered her previous question, picking up the deck and flicking a set of five cards at Oswin. She glanced at the cards and did her best not to sigh despite her rapidly slipping sobriety. Two sevens, a king, and two jacks, all of varying suits. Not a great hand, that was certain.

“How do you figure that, exactly?” she retorted, as Sliske made five cards spring from the top of the deck into his hand, fanning them out with gusto before even looking at them.

“It’s simple, my dear… you belong to me,” he responded with great joy.

Oswin threw three cards at him with enough force to cut a normal person’s flesh.

“I don’t belong to _anyone_ ,” she sneered, sticking her tongue out. “And gimme three cards you ass.”

“Oh my. Mind your temper, Oswin,” Sliske joked, clearly pushing his luck. A wave of his hand, and the three cards that had been sent sailing towards him stopped, and returned to her, now entirely changed. 

"Get fucked, Sliske." 

Two more jacks and a different king. She had to steel herself just a bit to keep her poker face from breaking. She had to consider what to do now. 

"How is that any way to talk to the person in charge here?" he asked, his gaze almost feeling as if it was piercing through her as she thought.  
  
“I don’t know, Sliske. How _can_ you talk to me like that?”

It was impossible for him to pull a royal flush, they weren't playing with enough cards and one of the jacks was in the discard pile. Unless he pulled a straight flush out of his ass, or was cheating as she suspected, she would easily win this hand. With the clothing disadvantage she was currently at…

"I raise. Two more pieces of clothing." she declared as Sliske discarded and drew two more cards. "Also, if you're so 'in charge' here, why am _I_ on the throne?" she queried with a drunken smirk, kicking her legs over the armrests to lounge, wine bottle now precariously perched on her chest.

"Rather brave talk for someone who's about to be as naked as the day she was born." 

"I call. Show me what you have," he said, flipping around his own cards: two pair, not even close to beating her hand. A fatal miscalculation; perhaps? Oswin didn't care. Her little gamble had paid off in spades.

Oswin flipped her cards around handily, taking great pleasure as the grin Sliske normally wore fled from his face. "Full house." 

Standing up and stretching, Oswin tosses her cards at the discard pile and smirks at Sliske.

"Strip for me, real slow." Oswin purred, imitating as if she was throwing gold pieces up on a brothel stage. "Three pieces, buddy."

"Oh, I think that is just a _fantastic_ idea!" he exclaimed, suddenly giddy after his losing hand. Oswin was immediately suspicious. What in the hell was he planning?

Sliske slowly reached one arm over the other, until he had gathered a sufficient portion of his sleeve in one hand, and with one swift yanking motion, pulled it entirely off, wearing perhaps the most infuriating grin Oswin had ever seen him put on.

  
  
“That counts as one,” he declared, the smarm _dripping_ from every word.  
  


“Absolutely not!” 

  
“That _does_ NOT count as one!” she glowered, while Sliske’s laugh rang all around. 

In a flash, he was no longer standing in front of her. Whipping around on the spot to find him, her eyes locked with his - as she found him sitting on _her_ godsdamned throne!

“You know, on second thought…” he smirked. “You’re right, that didn’t count as one. Let it never be said that I don’t hold up my end of deals,”, he quickly stripped off his robe top, followed by his gloves and ornamental bracers. 

  
“There, I think that should square us up. Your turn to deal, I believe… As the person who’s in charge,” he continued, even as Oswin nearly tripped onto his lap as she approached the throne.

  
  
“You’re a bastard and a cheat, and if _you’re_ in charge I’ll burn this whole damn citadel to the ground.” she spat, clambering onto his lap, feeling the natural heat radiating from his body now that his robes were no longer blocking it.

“Promises promises, Oswin,” Sliske tutted, as she swatted at his chest.

  
  
“Do you have to be such a bastard?” she protested, even as her hands turned from swatting at his chest, to cupping the ridges of his face. Pulling him closer, she presses her lips against his, giving in to the desire and build up that she’d been pushing down all night.

Slowly, she could feel him shift ever so slightly, and her fingers began to drift downwards towards the waistband of his robe bottoms. She bit down on her lower lip, studying his odd, yet also somehow handsome face.

“I want you,” she whispered in a much softer voice, shifting around on his lap so she could strip out of her underwear, one of the few remaining barriers between her and what she wanted. Whether it was the alcohol, the rush of the game they had been playing, or just pent up energy, Oswin didn’t know. All she knew is that she was getting more and more worked up in a hurry..

“Are you wanting to help host another _Grand Ascendency_ for me, World Guardian?” he asked with a duplicitous smirk.

Oswin swiveled around on his lap, legs planted on either side of him as she leaned up against him, the heat from his body washing over her in waves. “Oh, I was thinking _you_ could help me with _mine_ ,” she mewled, fingers rubbing gently over his dick through his robe, teasing at her prize. She continues, slipping her hand into the bottoms, but stopping just short of grasping his cock. For once, she was going to be the one for theatrics.

Grinding down against him, she could feel his dick beneath his robes, along with the heat it provided. Demanding, unable to be ignored. She could feel it throbbing against her as she ground downwards, as long as her forearm and nearly as thick around as her wrist as it fully hardened. It was Oswin smirking this time as Sliske shifted on the ancient throne, his normally cocky facade quickly giving way to impatience and lust. She let his hands roam all over her body, almost as if letting him explore. Her breasts, her ass, her thighs, squeezing, teasing, and most of all, pleasing. 

Getting ever so much closer as her hands sank even lower, her lips were on his as Sliske’s hands began to disrobe her as she did him. Her free hand traced over his sides, feeling every ridge and valley of his rocky body, alien and yet so familiar to her. She travelled upwards, caressing his jaw, and then leaving little kisses in a row down it. Face ridges were up next, and Oswin was starting to hyperventilate. As her own desire mounted, it only seemed to spur Sliske further on. 

His temperature was rising, he was grinding back against her now. It was as if he could smell it… because he could, and Oswin knew it. He could _smell_ her arousal, and the more she wanted him, the more he wanted her. He was on the precipice of snapping, he wanted her so badly. She was going to do all she could to drive him over that cliff. Clawed hands finally tearing away at her tunic, freeing her breasts as her bottom half had been freed, his impatience and need beginning to win out. His hands clamped to her hips, watching with trepidation as she continued her conquest of his body, and Oswin knew she’d be bruised the next morning. It would be worth it.

Finally, she had been able to get her fingers wrapped around his member, the immense heat from his body reaching a fever pitch. She just couldn’t stop herself any longer, his cock already slick with precum. Strangely, it didn’t burn, though it felt like it should. It _always_ felt like that — not that Oswin would complain.

“So, tell me,” Oswin whispered, giving his cock a long, slow pump. “Is the ‘Divine Source’ for my ascendency… or the ‘Scarecrow’?”

“Wouldn’t you like t–” Sliske began in a breathy voice, but stopped. Surprised, suddenly, by the feeling of Oswin sinking her teeth into his neck.

For once, the snake-tongued mahjarrat was at a loss for words. She knew that he could feel the strength of her bite, playful, an almost pleasant pressure against his hardened body. Instead, he could only laugh.

“Been spending too much time with the Myreque and around vampyres, have you?” he finally managed.

Oswin laughed as well, at the simple absurdity of the situation. Springing his dick from his pants now, she rose up, teasing him with her entrance. She was just as slick as him, and rubbing the head of his cock against her wetness was sending electric jolts through her body.

“Shut up,” she snorted, before finally sinking herself down onto his turgid cock. It’s a slow process, too large to take all at once, and she’s able to feel every ridge as she sank ever lower on it. Oswin was on her own descent into loss of control, a deep-seated need to be filled by him She was barely able to keep track of the conversation as they continued, her mind flooded by both alcohol and lust.

“And help me _ascend.”_ She slurred, biting down on harder and beginning to ride him.

“I think you may be the first person to ever try and extract blood from a stone,” Sliske growled, hands snaking upwards to rest on her breasts, beginning to knead his palms against her nipples as she picked up the pace.

  
  
“You ruin it when you talk,” she snapped back.

Looking as if he was about to protest, Oswin leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips, taking the first opportunity to shove her tongue into his mouth and prevent him from talking any further. 

The sound of stone sliding across the tiled floor filled their ears as their passion increased, Oswin finally bottoming out on his cock on each go-around. The throne was steadily shifting more and more, the longer they went. This was aided in no small feat by Sliske kicking his legs out against the floor, the pleasure of her fucking herself on him almost too much and not enough, all at once.

Changing his grip, Sliske sank his claws into Oswin’s hips, pushing against the back of the chair to give him that tiny bit more leverage he needed to sink even further into her. 

The heat from both their bodies was rapidly rising to a fever pitch, but the more marked difference was in Oswin, who would’ve normally felt as cold as water to a mahjarrat. Their rhythm was getting frantic, the panting and moaning during their brief respites from swallowing each other's tongues echoing in their ears.

Their passion was so high that they barely even noticed as the throne tipped completely over, falling off the elevated platform it had been on and shearing off the top portion in jagged, uneven portions. 

Still, they continued, Sliske simply teleporting them slightly away, now sprawled out on the floor as Oswin continued to bounce up and down on his cock, which was swelling as he raced towards his climax. She would’ve been lying if she said this didn’t make her feel powerful. To reduce the big bad mahjarrat to nothing more than animalistic grunts, writhing in pleasure underneath her. To cause _that_ look and have him make _that_ face? Divine. 

  
No further words needed to be spoken - not even that they _could_ be spoken by either of them at this point. Rapidly approaching the edge of her own cliff, Oswin leans as far up as she can, and sinks her teeth into Sliske’s neck one last time, although this time, she knew she’d left a mark, as an entirely _different_ type of warmth had started to explode inside of her. She noticed as he couldn’t help but bare his teeth in a snarl, letting out a growl as he came. His thrusting was erratic and wild, even as he clawed at her skin and bruised her hips.

Tasting the familiar tinge of bitter copper as a bit of blood washed into her mouth, it smelled oddly sulphurous. She had no time to dwell on it, as her own orgasm crashed down sending her shuddering on his cock as it lurched inside of her. Her vision nearly whited out, she buried him inside of her one last time, _hard_ , her nails trailing down on his sides with enough force to seemingly cut diamonds..

Both panting and exhausted, Oswin curled up on Sliske’s chest, as one of his arms came to rest almost protectively around her.

  
  
“You’re still a dirty fucking card cheat…” she panted, burying her head against his chest as sleep quickly claimed her.

"Yet I’m still the one in charge, Oswin..." he murmured back, quickly joining her in slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for Enkoro.
> 
> Thanks to Flatmaer's Revenge for editing  
> and Sliske_The_Mahjarrat for beta-reading.


End file.
